What’s interesting about birthday parties is that you get a bay window into people’s social circles. Most of us know our friends in a pretty specific manner: work, or a hobby, or a small group of friends. When you attend someone’s birthday party, you meet their spouses, oldest friends, and sometimes even the weird uncle or cousin. And you learn something about their world you didn’t know before. You can always tell what type of person someone is by the type of get-together they throw. Here’s what I experienced.

Friday evening: Dinner at Mai Thai in Georgetown with yogis and diplomats.

Hilarious. The birthday girl sat in the middle of the table, and the two crews divided evenly on either side so as not to have contact with each other. The foreign service officers were appropriately using their forks and knives on one side, whilst the yogis chatted about various approaches to downdog on the other. Yummy food, bad service, but overall a pretty normal and pleasant get-together. I think the yogis got crazy after I left. Wonder what that was like.

Friday night: After-dinner kegger and beer pong in Arlington.

Hanging out with my former roommate and kickball friends. This crew is my tried and true. They are all young professionals, and they think I’m old and crazy. (Of course, they are right.) No one knows how to have a good time together and rock a beer pong table like former GW frat boys. I don’t really fit in, but oddly I do. Everyone got really drunk (except me, I was still recovering from karaoke night), played pong, gave each other shit ’cause we do that, and went home happy.

Saturday night: Wine party at my place in Bloomingdale.

Funny watching actors, kickball friends, hipsters, and gym folks collide. I think everyone really loved it. Good fun, good people. That’s really all I wanted for my birthday. I had my girlfriends cook home-style food, I lit a fire, we played with my roommate’s puppy, and we drank a couple of cases of wine. I felt pretty supported to see everyone trucking out in the cold with the metro so far away. It’s nice to feel loved. Oh, and the puppy shat on my friend Katy. That was by far the best part, because poop is always funny.

Sunday night: Appetizers and cocktails at Mad Hatter in Dupont.

One of my favorite theatre gals rented a quirky room called the “upside down” room, which had the Hatter’s tea party glued to the ceiling. We ate sliders and drank hot toddies, and enjoyed adult conversation. It was relaxing and a good way to wind down the weekend after all the crazy.

Good work, D.C. Aquarians!
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